by Jen Talty
“I’ve heard witches are trained for specific roles in their coven. What’s yours?”
“Warrior,” she admitted, enjoying how his eyes widened and his lips parted at her admittance.
“A trained killer,” he said with an amused smile.
“If a coven lives by the rules of the land, there is no need. However, I saw on the news the other night about a witch hunt by a pack of rogue wolves—”
He raised his glass. “The key word there is ‘rogue’ and Twilight Crossing is doing their best to make sure nothing happens to any innocent witch or any other species.”
A long silence filled the room. He was a Ferguson, second in line to be Alpha and protector of the Wolfairy.
She was a witch. Didn’t matter from what coven, right now, all witches were under the microscope.
“Why don’t you ask me? Because I can tell you’re dying to.” When she’d gotten on her bike this morning, she had planned out two different stories she could spin about who she was and where she came from. The second she laid eyes on the wolf, she thought she might go with plan B.
Lie like a mother fucker.
But after meeting the man behind the wolf, she opted for plan A.
Tell him everything except what she really planned on doing.
“What’s the name of your coven?”
“The Unseen Moon,” she said, keeping her gaze locked on him. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move a muscle. Just stared.
“Do you believe fairies should be banished and the Wolfairy be destroyed?” He did a good job of keeping a straight face, but she could hear the tightness in his voice. “Because your coven has made it pretty clear on how they feel.”
She dropped her gaze to her lap. The shame heated her body, a reaction she didn’t think she could have faked if she were the best actress ever. “That is why I want to leave. I’ve rejected that notion ever since I can remember. I waited until my skills were formed and sealed, so that in leaving, I’d be able to protect myself.”
“And having a mate at your side would be beneficial as well.”
“We don’t mate. We fall in love, get married, but yeah, it would make the break easier for me.”
His thumb gently pressed against her chin. “We’re starting off with a fair amount of distrust here."
She tried avoiding his gaze, but he wouldn’t have it.
“I’ve been up front with you.”
“Do you know who I am? My family?” His tone turned accusatory as did the glare emulating from his bourbon eyes.
She sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Yes.”
“Does your family or anyone in your coven know where you are?” His fingers glided across her cheekbone like soft butter spreading over a piece of warm bread fresh from the oven.
“Everyone believes I’m on a fact-finding mission.” Not a total lie, in part, that’s what she was doing. “There is a potion in my backpack that will shield me from anyone homing in on my location. Five drops lasts twenty-four hours. I have one week’s supply.”
“What are you supposed to be finding, exactly?”
She swallowed the lump growing at the base of her throat, but it didn’t budge. “I’m supposed to be in Maine. Rumor has it there is a large population of Royal Fairies gathering there.” All of that was true, except where she was supposed to be. Her father hadn’t wanted her to use the potion, but it was protocol, so she did, and he had to accept that.
Hopefully.
“Won’t your people find it odd they can’t find you?”
She wanted to bat his hand away. Feeling his electric skin spark fire in her belly made her want to toss herself in his arms. If not for her sister, she’d turn on her coven this second.
But she had to save Coral, and she didn’t yet know if she could trust Nico.
“It’s to protect the rest of the coven. In this case, it’s to make sure they don’t know where I am.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” He leaned in, his full lips inches from hers.
“You don’t, but I’m telling the truth.”
“I want to believe you,” he whispered, curling his long fingers around her neck. His mouth brushed over hers in a tender, but commanding kiss. Pulling her body tight against his chest, he held her until her breath collapsed into his mouth, his tongue swirling around hers, drawing it into his mouth.
He ended the kiss, cupping the back of her head, tugging at her hair. “But my family is under attack and if I find out it’s you, I’ll kill you without thinking twice.”
Chapter 3
“GEE, THAT HAS to be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Nico’s heart collided with his head in a swirl of temptation and trepidation.
A hot, deep, passionate kiss followed by a threat.
Great way to start off a weekend-long date.
“You have to admit, we’re in a weird predicament,” he said.
He twirled a piece of her jet-black hair that had fallen from her funky butterfly adorned clip. The dark tattoo on the side of her neck captured his gaze. It looked more like a tick, tack, tow game with only three x’s dotted along the bottom boxes. Skull earrings dangled from her gently rounded earlobes. Her black, long lashes fluttered over her chocolate eyes that reminded him of being a little pup racing around the yard looking for hidden candy on Easter. She’d painted her lids with dark shadow and black liner. A little overkill, if you asked him. She carried herself like a true rebel.
His only question now was: did this rebel have a cause, and would it ultimately meet with his demise.
“That we are,” she said.
He licked his lips, enjoying the strawberry-flavored lip gloss that shined across her mouth like the stars speckling the night sky.
The moment he spotted her driving down the dirt road, he’d already felt a deep pull, lulling him into submission to his fated mate. A thrilling sensation he wished he could stop dead in its tracks.
Gerri had to have known who Isidore was and what she’d been trained to do: kill fairies and those who protected them.
“But we both showed up obviously knowing what the other was, so that says something.”
Yeah, it said they were either fucking nuts, or, well, nuts.
“I only knew you were a witch.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue, as it always had when working a case, only this time it left a horrible aftertaste. “You, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly who I was.”
“I suspected,” she said, taking his hand, lacing her fingers through his, showing off her black and white nail polish. “But I only knew for sure you were an officer for Twilight Crossing.”
“Dangerous for you to come considering right now your coven has chosen to ignore our warnings and are still making threats and sending people like you to stop what is destined to happen.”
“I have no idea what my coven is doing.” She leaned back on the sofa, closing her eyes, her soft hand still tangled in his.
The words of his brother echoed in his brain. No way could he stop the fated mate process now. Perhaps, if his chosen one had been wolf, together they would have been able to make that choice, but with another species? It had never been done before and when a wolf was rejected by a fated, that wolf would die a painful death.
“I started my warrior training the day after my branding ceremony. It’s a grueling process and lasts three years. I’d just finished two weeks ago.” She tapped her tattoo. “The x’s show I’ve graduated and no witch, not even a high wizard, can strip my powers now.”
“How are those powers different than casting spells, making potions, and all that?” He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation. Never in a million years did he believe he’d ever even want to know firsthand what a witch was capable of.
The corners of her mouth tipped upward, and he damn near choked.
Her smile brightened the room with what felt like the fairy rainbows that came from his sister-in-law’s stomach.
/> “It’s added strength and agility. Things like the ability to jump higher, flip faster, hit harder. I can disarm someone with a gun at twenty paces before they even know I’ve moved.”
He arched a brow, not liking the sound of that, and at the same time, he’d really enjoy watching her do it. He’d read where there were some witches who even had the ability to be invisible for up to three minutes at a time. Growing up he thought that to be folklore.
Then again, the Legend of the Princess and the Wolf had been exactly that, and now it had come to fruition.
“Many covens restrict their warrior training,” he said, knowing that wasn’t entirely true, but he wanted to hear her answer.
She shook her head, sitting up straighter and tucking her feet under her butt, crisscrossing her long, lean legs. Everything about this woman enticed him, but he’d have to learn to find a way to balance what was going to happen regardless of what he did and protecting his family. Mate or no mate, those babies were his priority.
“Others don’t use them as actual warriors. They are more of a self-police force inside the coven family. And of course, for ceremonies, rituals, and that kind of stuff.”
“But not yours,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone. The one thing he didn’t want to do was put her on the defensive. He wanted to learn as much as he could, even though he had every reason not to believe a single word that tumbled out of her mouth. He tried to keep his mind in control, using logic and his natural instincts, instead of the burning ache to touch, feel, and have the woman he understood he could love forever. That had been the entire reason he’d gone to Gerri in the first place.
He matched her sitting position, hands resting on her knees, eyes locked in a game of cat and mouse.
One he reveled in a little too much.
“As a little girl, it was all fun and games. Warriors would put on shows for us at school, and they made the ceremonies come to life. Sure, there was talk of the Spring Fling and the birth of the twins, but no one was actively out on search missions. That I know of.”
“And as you got older?”
“Once I hit training, I didn’t pay much attention to anything else. I’d get home, and I’d even be too tired to watch my favorite show much less take note what was happening in the world.”
“Your coven didn’t require you to keep up on current events or fill you in on their plans?” No one lived that far under a rock.
No one.
Especially a warrior witch.
“I’ve honestly tried to block it all out,” she said with a trace of fear lingering on the words. “We’re still a pretty sexest coven, so I figured men would be sent out on these missions, and I’d be used for ceremonial stuff, but in order to keep my powers at full strength, I had to complete the training. Otherwise, they would have been stripped. I need them to protect myself when I disavow the Unseen Moon altogether.”
He watched her pupils for signs of constriction, indicating a lie, or an omission of the truth. Her eyes stayed even. He studied her facial expressions, noting her left cheek twitched when she mentioned the name of her group. That could mean she was telling him the truth, or it could be her tell. He’d have to watch and ask probing questions over the course of the next few days to figure that out.
And figure it out he would.
In the last month, Nico had learned more about witches and their past than he ever cared to know. The majority were honestly harmless. They practiced their craft more like how humans went to church on Sunday. They used their magic to help heal the wounded. Feed the starving. Shelter the homeless.
But the Coven of the Unseen Moon didn’t follow any of their own laws, and never had.
“What will happen if you don’t take your potion that blocks your coven from finding you and they learn you’re here, with me?”
“I’d be dead like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“But you’re a warrior who can’t have her powers stripped.”
“That’s true.” She blinked a few times, clearing her throat. “But any ranking officer in my coven can and will cast a spell against a traitor, killing me instantly. They could be two thousand miles away, and still reach out and snap my neck.”
Instinctively, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Then how do you leave a coven if they can kill you anyway?”
“I can leave as long as I do it between missions. Once an order is handed down, I must complete it, or they reserve the right to end my life.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was falling for her and her potential lies like rushing water cascading over a cliff, only he doubted he’d survive plummeting to the body of water below.
“That’s barbaric,” he muttered.
“That’s why I want to leave,” she said, her palms pressing against the back side of his hands as he massaged her knees.
“Why didn’t you leave right after your training concluded?” If she’d finished two weeks ago, that was fourteen days she chose to stay.
Why?
Logically, he had to concur she was lying through her pretty little mouth, but his heart told him there was more to this story.
“I have a younger sister, and my father will hurt her. She’s not of age, so leaving wouldn’t end in the same result.”
“Jesus Christ,” he said, bolting from the sofa. “Fucking witches.”
“If I wasn’t one, I’d probably readily agree,” she said with sarcasm flying from every syllable.
“Coming of age for witches is eighteen, but what about her training?” he asked, standing at the edge of the sofa, staring down at Isidore, balling his hands into tight fists, though his anger was not directed at Isidore.
“She’s a seer, so no training. She just needs to get through her branding ceremony.”
“When will that be?” He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating taking on a side mission while his sole job was to protect the Wolfairies, but if he believed she was his true mate, he was duty-bound to help her.
And her family.
Fuck.
“Nine days,” she says.
“When are you to return from your fact-finding mission?”
“Seven days.”
He cupped her chin, letting out a long breath. “I’ll get you and your sister out safely, I promise.”
“You can’t guarantee nothing bad will happen to us.”
“I can promise I will die trying,” he said, brushing his mouth softly across her cheek, amused by her wide eyes and parted lips. “You did bring a couple of dresses, right?”
She tilted her head. “What? This isn’t appropriate for a pre-wedding party?”
This witch could very well be the death of him. “Let me get my leather jacket, and we can be on our way.”
She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
He stood, glancing down at his T-shirt and jeans. “Nope. I would have only put on a dress shirt, but the buttons are a pain in the ass, and I’ve never been known for my taste in clothing.” He held his hand out. “Let’s go cause some trouble.”
Chapter 4
TUCKED UNDER NICO’S ARM, Isidore enjoyed the heat his body emitted in the cold spring air as they walked down the dirt road to the community center of Bellwood Park. They hadn’t said a word since leaving the cabin.
“How do you know the bride and groom?” she asked, unable to stand the silence any longer. It had only been five minutes, but the owl hooting in the background was making her want to run for the mountains.
“I trained to be an officer with James, the groom. I haven’t met his bride, Helen, yet.”
The second she stepped into the room, a couple dozen wolves turned their heads, noses in the air, taking a good whiff of her witch scent, whatever that was.
“Do I really smell that bad?” she whispered.
“Not at all.” He leaned over, kissing her temple, letting his lips linger against her skin. “You smell like fresh vanilla beans with a dash of coconut.”
“Then why is everyone
looking at me like I have cooties?”
“Do you want the truth?”
“Please,” she said, turning to face him, wishing she hadn’t when their eyes met like star-crossed lovers under the moonlight in the middle of a cold waterway filled with icebergs.
“Most witches smell like a combination of pine and mouthwash. It’s not unpleasant, per se, but it’s not attractive.”
“So, why do you think I smell different?” She wondered if maybe it had to do with her potion to protect her from her father finding her until she was ready.
“You’re not a pure witch. Somewhere in your heritage is another creature.”
“That’s bullshit,” she said as he tugged her across the room toward a man waving frantically. “You’re teasing me.”
“Actually, I’m not. But everyone here fears your witch side, not your fairy side.”
“What the fuck?” She stopped in the middle of the room, staring at him, though all she saw was a blur of her past rushing through her mind. Her mother. Her dear, sweet mother who had been beaten into submission and then driven to suicide. “That’s not even remotely funny.”
“I know. When I first picked up your scent, you had that piney smell, but the longer I’m around you, the more it changes.”
She didn’t have time to respond as his buddy practically shoved her out of the way to give him a manly hug.
“I didn’t think you’d make it,” James said with a wide smile. “I’ve been dying for you to meet Helen.” He looped an arm around a tall blonde with orange eyes with tiny sparkles glittering like freckles.
Nico kissed Helen’s hand. “The pleasure is all mine.” He took a step back. “I’d like you to meet Isidore.”
Helen leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, but James looked her up and down with a scrutinizing glare. She couldn’t blame him. If the tables were turned, she’d do the same thing.
“Why don’t you boys go get us ladies a couple of drinks,” Helen said, waving her hand in the direction of the bar, as if to shoo James and Nico away.
“What do you want?” Nico asked, giving her hand a good squeeze.
She didn’t know if that was a warning not to go anywhere, or a gesture of affection.